The outward armour and the bones within Broken and bruised and crush'd.

Echo prolong'd

The long uproar: a silence then ensued,

A lonely voice of waters, wild and sweet;

The lingering groan, the faintly-utter'd prayer,
The louder curses of despairing death,
Ascended not so high. Down from the cave
Pelayo hastes, the Asturians hasten down,
Fierce and immitigable down they speed
On all sides, and along the vale of blood
The avenging sword did mercy's work that hour.

XXIV.

RODERICK AND COUNT JULIAN.

THOU hast been busy, Death! this day, and yet
But half thy work is done; the Gates of Hell
Are throng'd, yet twice ten thousand spirits more,
Who from their warm and healthful tenements
Fear no divorce, must ere the sun go down
Enter the world of woe! the Gate of Heaven
Is open too, and Angels round the throne
Of Mercy on their golden harps this day
Shall sing the triumphs of Redeeming Love.

There was a Church at Cangas dedicate To that Apostle unto whom his Lord Had given the keys; a humble edifice, Whose rude and time-worn structure suited well That vale among the mountains. Its low roof With stone plants and with moss was overgrown, Short fern, and richer weeds which from the eaves Hung their long tresses down. White lichens clothed The sides, save where the ivy spread, which bower'd The porch, and clustering round the pointed wall, Wherein two bells, each open to the wind, Hung side by side, threaded with hairy shoots The double nich; and climbing to the cross, Wreathed it and half conceal'd its sacred form With bushy tufts luxuriant. Here in the font,.. Borne hither with rejoicing and with prayers Of all the happy land who saw in him The lineage of their ancient Chiefs renew'd,.. The Prince had been immersed and here within An oaken galilee, now black with age, His old Iberian ancestors were laid.

Two stately oaks stood nigh, in the full growth Of many a century. They had flourish'd there Before the Gothic sword was felt in Spain, And when the ancient sceptre of the Goths

contradiction, and is still believed by the people, that when the Moors attacked Pelayo in the cave, their weapons were turned back upon themselves; that the Virgin Mary appeared in the clouds; and that part of a mountain fell upon the Infidels, and crushed those who were flying from the destruction. In what manner that destruction might have been effected, was exemplified upon a smaller scale in the Tyrol in the memorable war of 1809.

Barret sums up the story briefly, and in the true strain of Mine Ancient :

"The Sarr'cen hearing that th' Asturianites Had king created, and stood on their guard,

For to his daughter he had left his tent
Pitch'd for her use hard by. He at the board
Sate with his trusted Captains, Gunderick,

Felix and Miro, Theudered and Paul,
Basil and Cottila, and Virimar,

Men through all fortunes faithful to their Lord,
And to that old and tried fidelity,

By personal love and honour held in ties
Strong as religious bonds. As there they sate,
In the distant vale a rising dust was seen,
And frequent flash of steel,.. the flying fight
Of men who, by a fiery foe pursued,

Put forth their coursers at full speed, to reach
The aid in which they trust. Up sprung the Chiefs,
And hastily taking helm and shield, and spear,
Sped to their post.

Amid the chesnut groves
On Sella's side, Alphonso had in charge
To watch the foe; a prowling band came nigh,
Whom with the ardour of impetuous youth

He charged and followed them in close pursuit :
Quick succours join'd them; and the strife grew hot,
Ere Pedro hastening to bring off his son,

Or Julian and his Captains,.. bent alike
That hour to abstain from combat, (for by this
Full sure they deem'd Alcahman had secured
The easy means of certain victory,)..
Could reach the spot. Both thus in their intent
According, somewhat had they now allay'd
The fury of the fight, though still spears flew,
And strokes of sword and mace were interchanged,
When passing through the troop a Moor came up
On errand from the Chief, to Julian sent;
A fatal errand fatally perform'd

For Julian, for the Chief, and for himself,
And all that host of Musselmen he brought;
For while with well-dissembled words he lured
The warrior's ear, the dexterous ruffian mark'd
The favouring moment and unguarded place,
And plunged a javelin in his side. The Count
Fell, but in falling called to Cottila,
Treachery! the Moor! the Moor!.. He too on whom
He call'd had seen the blow from whence it came,
And seized the murderer. Miscreant he exclaim'd,
Who set thee on? The Musselman, who saw
His secret purpose baffled, undismayed,
Replies, What I have done is authorized;
To punish treachery and prevent worse ill
Orpas and Abulcacem sent me here;
The service of the Caliph and the Faith

Sends multitudes of Mohametized knights
To rouse them out their rocks, and force their ward.
Pelagius, hearing of this enterprize,
Prepares his petty power on Auseve mount;
Alchameh comes with Zarzen multiplies,
Meaning Pelagius' forces to dismount.
To blows they come: but lo; a stroke divine.
The Iber, few, beats numbrous Sarracene,
Two myriads with Mahomet went to dine
In Parca's park."

Required the blow.

The Prophet and the Fiend
Reward thee then! cried Cottila; meantime
Take thou from me thy proper earthly meed;
Villain!.. and lifting as he spake the sword,
He smote him on the neck: the trenchant blade
Through vein and artery pass'd and yielding bone;
And on the shoulder, as the assassin dropt,

His head half-severed fell. The curse of God
Fall on the Caliph and the Faith and thee!
Stamping for anguish, Cottila pursued;
African dogs, thus is it ye requite
Our services?.. But dearly shall ye pay

For this day's work!.. O Fellow-soldiers, here,
Stretching his hands toward the host, he cried,
Behold your noble leader basely slain !
He who for twenty years hath led us forth
To war, and brought us home with victory,
Here he lies foully murdered,.. by the Moors,..
Those whom he trusted, whom he served so well!
Our turn is next! but neither will we wait
Idly, nor tamely fall!

Amid the grief,

Tumult, and rage, of those who gather'd round,
When Julian could be heard, I have yet life,
He said, for vengeance. Virimar, speed thou
To yonder Mountaineers, and tell their Chiefs
That Julian's veteran army joins this day
Pelayo's standard ! The command devolves
On Gunderick. Fellow-soldiers, who so well
Redress'd the wrongs of your old General,
Ye will not let this death go unrevenged!..
Tears then were seen on many an iron cheek,
And groans were heard from many a resolute heart,
And vows with imprecations mix'd went forth,
And curses check'd by sobs. Bear me apart,
Said Julian, with a faint and painful voice,
And let me see my daughter ere I die.

Scarce had he spoken when the pitying throng
Divide before her. Eagerly she came;
A deep and fearful lustre in her eye,

A look of settled woe,.. pale, deadly pale,
Yet to no lamentations giving way,

Nor tears nor groans; . . within her breaking heart
She bore the grief, and kneeling solemnly
Beside him, raised her aweful hands to heaven,
And cried, Lord God! be with him in this hour!
Two things have I to think of, O my child,
Vengeance and thee; said Julian. For the first
I have provided: what remains of life
As best may comfort thee may so be best
Employ'd; let me be borne within the church,
And thou, with that good man who follows thee,
Attend me there.

Thus when Florinda heard

Her father speak, a gleam of heavenly joy
Shone through the anguish of her countenance.
O gracious God, she cried, my prayers are heard;
Now let me die !.. . They raised him from the earth;
He, knitting as they lifted him his brow,
Drew in through open lips and teeth firm-closed
His painful breath, and on the lance laid hand,
Lest its long shaft should shake the mortal wound.

1 It is now admitted by the best informed of the Romish

Gently his men with slow and steady step
Their suffering burthen bore, and in the Church
Before the altar laid him down, his head
Upon Florinda's knees. . . . Now, friends, said he,
Farewell. I ever hoped to meet my death
Among ye, like a soldier,.. but not thus!
Go, join the Asturians; and in after years,
When of your old commander ye shall talk,
How well he loved his followers, what he was
In battle, and how basely he was slain,
Let not the tale its fit completion lack,
But say how bravely was his death revenged.
Vengeance in that good word doth Julian make
His testament; your faithful swords must give
The will its full performance. Leave me now,
I have done with worldly things. Comrades, farewell,
And love my memory!

They with copious tears
Of burning anger, grief exasperating
Their rage, and fury giving force to grief,
Hasten'd to form their ranks against the Moors.
Julian meantime toward the altar turn'd
His languid eyes: That Image, is it not
St. Peter, he inquired, he who denied
His Lord and was forgiven?.. Roderick rejoin'd,
It is the Apostle; and may that same Lord,
O Julian, to thy soul's salvation bless
The seasonable thought!

The dying Count
Then fix'd upon the Goth his earnest eyes.
No time, said he, is this for bravery,
As little for dissemblance, I would fain
Die in the faith wherein my fathers died,
Whereto they pledged me in mine infancy...
A soldier's habits, he pursued, have steel'd
My spirit, and perhaps I do not fear
This passage as I ought. But if to feel
That I have sinn'd, and from my soul renounce
The Impostor's faith, which never in that soul
Obtain'd a place,.. if at the Saviour's feet,
Laden with guilt, to cast myself and cry,
Lord, I believe! help thou my unbelief!..
If this in the sincerity of death
Sufficeth,.. Father, let me from thy lips
Receive the assurances with which the Church
Doth bless the dying Christian.

Roderick raised

His eyes to Heaven, and crossing on his breast
His open palms, Mysterious are thy ways
And merciful, O gracious Lord! he cried,
Who to this end hast thus been pleased to lead
My wandering steps! O Father, this thy son
Hath sinn'd and gone astray: but hast not Thou
Said, When the sinner from his evil ways
Turneth, that he shall save his soul alive,
And Angels at the sight rejoice in Heaven?
Therefore do I, in thy most holy name,
Into thy family receive again

In silence reverently the Count partook The reconciling rite, and to his lips Roderick then held the consecrated cup.

Me too! exclaim'd Florinda, who till then Had listen'd speechlessly; Thou Man of God, I also must partake! The Lord hath heard My prayers! one sacrament,..one hour,.. one grave,.. One resurrection!

That dread office done,

Count Julian with amazement saw the Priest Kneel down before him. By the sacrament Which we have here partaken, Roderick cried, In this most aweful moment; by that hope,.. That holy faith which comforts thee in death, Grant thy forgiveness, Julian, ere thou diest ! Behold the man who most hath injured thee! Roderick, the wretched Goth, the guilty cause Of all thy guilt, . . the unworthy instrument Of thy redemption, . . kneels before thee here, And prays to be forgiven!

Roderick exclaim'd

The dying Count,. . Roderick !.. and from the floor
With violent effort half he raised himself;
The spear hung heavy in his side, and pain
And weakness overcame him, that he fell
Back on his daughter's lap. O Death, cried he,..
Passing his hand across his cold damp brow,..
Thou tamest the strong limb, and conquerest
The stubborn heart! But yesterday I said
One Heaven could not contain mine enemy
And me and now I lift my dying voice
To say, Forgive me, Lord, as I forgive

Him who hath done the wrong!.. He closed his eyes
A moment; then with sudden impulse cried,..
Roderick, thy wife is dead,.. the Church hath power
To free thee from thy vows,.. the broken heart
Might yet be heal'd, the wrong redress'd, the throne
Rebuilt by that same hand which pull'd it down,
And these cursed Africans... Oh for a month
Of that waste life which millions misbestow!..
His voice was passionate, and in his eye
With glowing animation while he spake
The vehement spirit shone: its effort soon
Was pass'd, and painfully with feeble breath
In slow and difficult utterance he pursued,..
Vain hope, if all the evil was ordain'd,

And this wide wreck the will and work of Heaven,
We but the poor occasion! Death will make
All clear, and joining us in better worlds,
Complete our union there! Do for me now
One friendly office more: draw forth the spear,
And free me from this pain!... Receive his soul,
Saviour! exclaim'd the Goth, as he perform'd
The fatal service. Julian cried, O friend!..
True friend!.. and gave to him his dying hand.
Then said he to Florinda, I go first,

Thou followest !.. kiss me, child!.. and now good night!

When from her father's body she arose,

Her cheek was flush'd, and in her eyes there beam'd A wilder brightness. On the Goth she gazed

common or leavened bread was used in the Eucharist. The wafer was introduced about the eleventh century. And as

While underneath the emotions of that hour

Exhausted life gave way. O God! she said,
Lifting her hands, thou hast restored me all,..
All.. in one hour!.. and round his neck she threw
Her arms and cried, My Roderick! mine in Heaven!
Groaning, he clasp'd her close, and in that act
And agony her happy spirit fled.

XXV.

RODERICK IN BATTLE.

EIGHT thousand men had to Asturias march'd
Beneath Count Julian's banner; the remains
Of that brave army which in Africa
So well against the Musselman made head,
Till sense of injuries insupportable,
And raging thirst of vengeance, overthrew
Their leader's noble spirit. To revenge
His quarrel, twice that number left their bones,
Slain in unnatural battle, on the field

Of Xeres, when the sceptre from the Goths
By righteous Heaven was reft. Others had fallen
Consumed in sieges, alway by the Moor
To the front of war opposed. The policy,
With whatsoever show of honour cloak'd,
Was gross, and this surviving band had oft
At their carousals, of the flagrant wrong,
Held such discourse as stirs the mounting blood,
The common danger with one discontent
Affecting chiefs and men. Nor had the bonds
Of rooted discipline and faith attach'd,
Thus long restrain'd them, had they not known well
That Julian in their just resentment shared,
And fix'd their hopes on him. Slight impulse now
Sufficed to make these fiery martialists
Break forth in open fury; and though first
Count Pedro listen'd with suspicious ear
To Julian's dying errand, deeming it
Some new decoy of treason,.. when he found
A second legate follow'd Virimar,

And then a third, and saw the turbulence

Of the camp, and how against the Moors in haste
They form'd their lines, he knew that Providence
This hour had for his country interposed,
And in such faith advanced to use the aid
Thus wondrously ordain'd. The eager Chiefs
Hasten to greet him, Cottila and Paul,
Basil and Miro, Theudered, Gunderick,
Felix, and all who held authority;
The zealous services of their brave host
They proffer'd, and besought him instantly
To lead against the African their force
Combined, and in good hour assail a foe
Divided, nor for such attack prepared.

While thus they communed, Roderick from the church

Came forth, and seeing Pedro, bent his way
Toward them. Sirs, said he, the Count is dead;

far down as the twelfth century the people were admitted to communicate in both kinds.

He died a Christian, reconciled to Heaven,
In faith; and when his daughter had received
His dying breath, her spirit too took flight.
One sacrament, one death, united them;
And I beseech ye, ye who from the work
Of blood which lies before us may return,..
If, as I think, it should not be my fate..
That in one grave with Christian ceremonies
Ye lay them side by side. In Heaven I ween
They are met through mercy: .. ill befall the man
Who should in death divide them!.. Then he turn'd
His speech to Pedro in an under voice;
The King, said he, I know with noble mind
Will judge of the departed; Christian like

He died, and with a manly penitence:

They who condemn him most should call to mind How grievous was the wrong which madden'd him ; Be that remember'd in his history,

And let no shame be offer'd his remains. 1

As Pedro would have answer'd, a loud cry Of menacing imprecation from the troops Arose; for Orpas, by the Moorish Chief Sent to allay the storm his villainy

Had stirr'd, came hastening on a milk-white steed,
And at safe distance having check'd the rein,
Beckon'd for parley. 'Twas Orelio

On which he rode, Roderick's own battle-horse,
Who from his master's hand had wont to feed,
And with a glad docility obey

His voice familiar. At the sight the Goth
Started, and indignation to his soul

Trembling in passion could perform its will,
Roderick had seized the reins.
How now, he cried,

Orelio old companion,.. my good horse,..
Off with this recreant burthen!... And with that
He raised his hand, and rear'd and back'd the steed,
To that remember'd voice and arm of power
Obedient. Down the helpless traitor fell
Violently thrown, and Roderick over him
Thrice led with just and unrelenting hand
The trampling hoofs. Go join Witiza now,
Where he lies howling, the avenger cried,
And tell him Roderick sent thee!

At that sight,
Count Julian's soldiers and the Asturian host
Set up a shout, a joyful shout, which rung
Wide through the welkin. Their exulting cry
With louder acclamation was renew'd,
When from the expiring miscreant's neck they saw
That Roderick took the shield, and round his own
Hung it, and vaulted in the seat. My horse!
My noble horse! he cried, with flattering hand
Patting his high-arch'd neck! the renegade,
I thank him for't, hath kept thee daintily!
Orelio, thou art in thy beauty still,

Thy pride and strength! Orelio, my good horse,
Once more thou bearest to the field thy Lord,
He who so oft hath fed and cherish'd thee,
He for whose sake, wherever thou wert seen,
Thou wert by all men honour'd. Once again
Thou hast thy proper master! Do thy part
As thou wert wont; and bear him gloriously,
My beautiful Orelio,.. to the last...

Suffer me, Count, he cried, to answer him,

And hold these back the while! Thus having said,
He waited no reply, but as he was,
Bareheaded, in his weeds, and all unarm'd,
Advanced toward the renegade. Sir Priest,
Quoth Orpas as he came, I hold no talk
With thee; my errand is with Gunderick
And the Captains of the host, to whom I bring
Such liberal offers and clear proof...

The Goth,
Breaking with scornful voice his speech, exclaim'd,
What, could no steed but Roderick's serve thy turn?
I should have thought some sleek and sober mule
Long train'd in shackles to procession pace,
More suited to my lord of Seville's use
Than this good war-horse,.. he who never bore
A villain, until Orpas cross'd his back!...
Wretch cried the astonish'd renegade, and stoopt,
Foaming with anger, from the saddle-bow
To reach his weapon. Ere the hasty hand

1 According to the Comendador Fernan Nunez, in his Commentary upon the Trezientas, the tomb of Count Julian was shown in his days about four leagues from Huesca, at a castle called Loarri, on the outside of a church which was in the castle.

2 The Musical Pilgrim in Purchas thus describes the Leonese:

"Wymmen in that land use no vullen,
But alle in lether be the wounden:
And her hevedez wonderly ben trust,
Standing in her forheved as a crest,
In rould clouthez happet alle be forn
Like to the prikke of a N'unicorn.

The scymitar, and waving it aloft,

Rode toward the troops; its unaccustom'd shape
Disliked him; Renegade in all things! cried
The Goth, and cast it from him; to the Chiefs
Then said, If I have done ye service here,
Help me, I pray you, to a Spanish sword!
The trustiest blade that e'er in Bilbilis
Was dipt, would not to-day be misbestowed
On this right hand!.. Go some one, Gunderick cried,
And bring Count Julian's sword. Whoe'er thou art,
The worth which thou hast shown avenging him
Entitles thee to wear it. But thou goest
For battle unequipp'd; . . haste there and strip
Yon villain of his armour!

And men have doubelettez full schert,
Bare legget and light to stert."-P. 1231.

Purchas supposes this very curious poem to have been written about 200 years before he published it, i. c. about 1425. It is probably much older. In entering Castille from Elvas, the author says,

"Now into Castell schall we fare
Over the river, the land is bare.
Full of heath and hunger also,

And Sarasynez Governouriz thereto."

Now Badajoz and that part of the country was finally recovered from the Moors in the early part of the thirteenth

The unguarded life he ventures... Taking then
Count Julian's sword, he fitted round his wrist
The chain, and eyeing the elaborate steel
With stern regard of joy, The African
Under unhappy stars was born, he cried,

Who tastes thy edge!.. Make ready for the charge!
They come..they come!.. On, brethren, to the field!..
The word is Vengeance!

Vengeance was the word; From man to man, and rank to rank it pass'd, By every heart enforced, by every voice Sent forth in loud defiance of the foe. The enemy in shriller sounds return'd Their Akbar and the Prophet's trusted name. The horsemen lower'd their spears, the infantry Deliberately with slow and steady step

Advanced; the bowstrings twang'd, and arrows hiss'd,

And javelins hurtled by. Anon the hosts
Met in the shock of battle, horse and man
Conflicting; shield struck shield, and sword and mace
And curtle-axe on helm and buckler rung;
Armour was riven, and wounds were interchanged,
And many a spirit from its mortal hold
Hurried to bliss or bale. Well did the Chiefs
Of Julian's army in that hour support
Their old esteem; and well Count Pedro there
Enhanced his former praise; and by his side,
Rejoicing like a bridegroom in the strife,
Alphonso through the host of infidels
Bore on his bloody lance dismay and death.
But there was worst confusion and uproar,

There widest slaughter and dismay, where, proud
Of his recover'd Lord, Orelia plunged
Through thickest ranks, trampling beneath his feet
The living and the dead. Where'er he turns

The Moors divide and fly.

What man is this,

Appall'd they say, who to the front of war
Bareheaded offers thus his naked life?

Replete with power he is, and terrible,
Like some destroying Angel! Sure his lips

Have drank of Kaf's dark fountain, and he comes
Strong in his immortality! Fly! fly!
They said, this is no human foe!.. Nor less
Of wonder fill'd the Spaniards when they saw
How flight and terror went before his way,
And slaughter in his path. Behold, cries one,
With what command and knightly ease he sits
The intrepid steed, and deals from side to side
His dreadful blows! Not Roderick in his power

Bestrode with such command and majesty
That noble war-horse. His loose robe this day
Is death's black banner, shaking from its folds
Dismay and ruin. Of no mortal mould

Is he who in that garb of peace affronts
Whole hosts, and sees them scatter where he turns!
Auspicious Heaven beholds us, and some Saint
Revisits earth!

Ay, cries another, Heaven
Hath ever with especial bounty blest
Above all other lands its favour'd Spain;
Chusing her children forth from all mankind
For its peculiar people, as of yore

Abraham's ungrateful race beneath the Law.
Who knows not how on that most holy night
When peace on Earth by Angels was proclaim'd,
The light which o'er the fields of Bethlehem shone,
Irradiated whole Spain ? not just display'd,
As to the Shepherds, and again withdrawn ;
All the long winter hours from eve till morn
Her forests and her mountains and her plains,
Her hills and valleys were embathed in light,
A light which came not from the sun or moon
Or stars, by secondary powers dispensed,
But from the fountain-springs the Light of Light
Effluent. And wherefore should we not believe
That this may be some Saint or Angel, charged
To lead us to miraculous victory?
Hath not the Virgin Mother oftentimes
Descending, clothed in glory, sanctified
With feet adorable our happy soil?...
Mark'd ye not, said another, how he cast
In wrath the unhallow'd scymitar away,
And called for Christian weapon? Oh be sure
This is the aid of Heaven! On, comrades, on!
A miracle to-day is wrought for Spain !

Victory and Vengeance! Hew the miscreants down,
And spare not! hew them down in sacrifice!
God is with us! his Saints are in the field!
Victory! miraculous Victory!

Thus they

Inflamed with wild belief the keen desire
Of vengeance on their enemies abhorr'd,
The Moorish chief, meantime, o'erlook'd the fight
From an eminence, and cursed the renegade
Whose counsels sorting to such ill effect

Had brought this danger on. Lo, from the East
Comes fresh alarm! a few poor fugitives
Well-nigh with fear exanimate came up,
From Covadonga flying, and the rear

General. f. 71.

"Fallamos en las estorias que aquella ora que nuestro Señor Jesu Christo nascio, seyendo media noche, aparesçio una nuve sobre España que dio tan gran claridad, é tan gran resplandor, é tan gran calor, como el sol en medio del dia quando va mas apoderado sobre la tierra. E departen los sabios é dizen que se entiende por aquella que despues de Jesu Christo vernie su mandadero á España á predicar á los gentiles la ceguedad en que estavan, é que los alumbrarie con la fee de Jesu Chrysto, é aquesto fue San Pablo. Otros departen que en España avie de nascer un principe chrystiano que serie señor de todo el mundo, é valdrie mas por el todo el linaje de los omes, bien como esclarescio toda la tierra por

A more extraordinary example of the divine favour towards Spain is triumphantly brought forward by Francisco de Pisa. "Our Lord God," says he, " has been pleased to preserve these kingdoms in the purity of the Faith, like a terrestrial Paradise, by means of the Cherubim of the Holy Office, which with its sword of fire has defended the entrance, through the merits and patronage of the most serene Virgin Mary the Mother of God.”—“ Ha sido servido nuestro Señor Dios conservar estos reynos de España en la entereza de la Fe, como á un Parayso terrenal, mediante el Cherubin del Santo Officio, que con su espada de fuego les ha defendido la entrada por los meritos y patrocinio de la serenissima Virgen Maria Madre de Dios."- Des. de Toledo, 1. i. c. 25.

This passage is truly and lamentably characteristic.